


and yet dead hearts don't beat

by Anonymous



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sort Of, both of them: what is this disease called emotion I have been afflicted with, but instead of coffee it’s killing their friends, demise - Freeform, existential crisis about being dead, season 6, two pining idiots awkwardly try to ask each other out for coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:26:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26569531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: While the magic of Demise might have stripped the life away from them, it hasn’t managed to take everything just yet.It is fitting, then, how long it took both of them to realize what the phantom flutterings in their heart actually meant.~~~~~~Written for Orion Kitsune, for Season 4 of the MCTube Hermitcraft Gift Exchange. Request: Xisuma/any evil alter ego
Relationships: Grimdog/Xisumavoid (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37
Collections: Anonymous





	and yet dead hearts don't beat

Ren would say, for theatrics’ sake, that it all started as an innocent dare between friends. So would Grimdog.

But the truth was, the Story of Demise started with that damned, cursed book, and everyone knew it.

Not that they realized just how cursed the book was, when Grian had first presented it to the Hermits, thinking it would be just another fun roleplay challenge.

Or did he? Thinking back, Grimdog wasn’t quite sure he could trust Grian’s claims to innocence. There was always a strange, knowing glint in the newest Hermit’s eyes, when the topic was brought up…

“Hello? Worlds to Ren? You there?”

Grimdog blinked, snapping himself out of the thoughts.

Right. He had a death to plan.

Xisuma’s soul was a special one. It smelled of cold mist, tasted of inky waters, and radiated an aura of calm, billowing void.

Well, alright. It was special. It wasn’t _that_ special.

Grimdog wasn’t quite sure why he was so fascinated with it, given that Grian carried a similar presence, while the Convex souls leaked pale, glowing magic wherever they traversed.

 _He’s the admin_ , Grimdog told himself. _Of course you’d be interested in that. Xisuma will be a most important addition to the ranks of the dead._

“Ren?”

“Oh, right. So, about Speedy Pines,” Grimdog began, giving Xisuma a smile. A smile that was far too shy to be devious.

 _Ugh_ , the creepy presence thing had worked fine with the other Hermits! Why couldn’t Grimdog pull it off here?

Nevermind.

The trap had been set. The trap was ready. He was ready.

As Xisuma got into the boat, a strangely exhilarating thrill raced down Grimdog's cold, nerveless spine.

* * *

Xisuma had a hunch, seeing Ren’s lifeless form stride around him. He’s read the Book of Demise, knew the rules, signed his name on the page in flowing, flowery handwriting anyway.

But there was something in the hesitant offer Ren presented that he just couldn’t resist.

The lap was almost complete. There was a line of pressure plates to make the end-

Pressure plates?

Xisuma narrowed his eyes. He caught a glimpse of Ren leaning over the railing above him, eyes filled with anticipation; excited, _lively_ anticipation.

He reached for the side of the boat, leaned to the left - he could make it in time, he could tumble out and slide slowly across cold, harmless ice - 

Ren’s eager expression flashed in his mind, Xisuma made a split second decision.

He leaned back in, and kept on rowing.

* * *

**Xisuma blew up.**

* * *

“I trusted you,” was the first thing Xisuma whispered when Grimdog dug him out of his grave.

The Reaper of Souls was supposed to do his job, and he was supposed to enjoy it. 

So why did Grimdog feel so guilty?

“Sorry, X.” he managed to smile. “Had to be done, you know? It’s my purpose.”

“What happened to Ren?” Xisuma asked. Grimdog stared into his eyes through the grayed visor. His eyes - which were now as blank and lifeless as Grimdog’s own.

A strange vortex of emotions swirled inside him, threatening to drown his mind - triumph, sorrow, joy, despair, pride - and perhaps a deep, aching guilt.

Grimdog wanted to slap himself. What was wrong with him?

“Ren is dead, remember?” he arched an eyebrow. To act was to be, and he had to keep an appearance.

 _Ren was an actor too,_ his traitorous mind reminded. _Everyone talked about him like that._

“So am I,” Xisuma said quietly. He glanced around the desolate graveyard, weathered and ruined by abandonment, the living content to forget the dead. Beyond the crawling vines and barely sentient slimes, it was devoid of any life. 

Besides Xisuma and Ren, Stress’ head was the only one present.

That would change soon enough, Grimdog knew. He chose to focus on that, rather than Xisuma’s eyes.

It was wrong. The dead should not convey so much emotion. Unnatural, impossible, improper-

“Well, in a way, it brings us closer together,” Xisuma sighed. 

Grimdog’s heart was icy and still, but _something_ inside him seemed to lift-

“Care to show me around?”

“Of course,” he agreed with too much eagerness. “I’d be…” 

_Grateful? Happy? Extremely, strangely, abnormally relieved you’re not mad at me?_

“...delighted.”

* * *

**Grimdog was slain by Breath Over Death.**

Xisuma regarded the message. Something stirred inside him. 

Fear, perhaps, at what the living might try to do?

But no, that wasn’t right. One could not die twice - the dead merely had their bodies destroyed. Grimdog would reform soon enough, whilst the living treaded the world in constant fear.

Curiosity, at what the circumstances were? Breath Over Death. He didn’t know of any new factions amongst the living, but Xisuma could hazard some guesses. But it didn’t go anywhere beyond a mild speculation. This… emotion. It ran deeper.

...anger?

Rage?

It seemed right. It seemed fitting, though oddly lacking. But Xisuma had no idea why.

Grimdog would be fine. Besides, he may lead the collection of souls, but he was no official leader of the dead. They were too independent, too chaotic for that. 

And it wasn’t like - it wasn’t like he was Ren, anyway. Grimdog had no memories of Ren. He was a separate individual, crafted from Demise’s twisted magic.

Yet it wasn't until Xisuma had destroyed every potion, every totem, every trap by the living he came across, that he felt the feeling fade away. And yet even then, traces lingered, whispering faintly of something indecipherable.

This was behavior very unlike the dead, he decided. But - 

He wasn’t sure he wanted it to go away.

He wondered if Grimdog cared at all. 

* * *

The next time they actually met was during the building of the Deadquarters.

Grimdog had been busy, laying down traps. He wasn’t quite sure what Xisuma had gotten up to, but judging from the living’s gossip it was definitely _something._

“Hello, fellow coldblood,” Grimdog greeted.

“Good evening, R - Grimdog,” Xisuma nodded. “What do you think of our new Deadquarters?” 

He gestured at the dark hallway, where in the distance Grimdog could see the figure of Cubfan (or was it now Mr. Inevitable?) filling in walls for the rooms. He had taken in the half-finished terraforming as he swooped in, the deadened plants and barren landscape of the floating island.

“It’s very… fitting,” Grimdog said. “And enticing as well - a perfect lure for the living.”

“Indeed,” Xisuma agreed. 

“Xisuma, I’ve finished the rooms!” Cub called. Grimdog blinked. The Convex’s voice was strangely unchanged, though there was an accompanying ring to the syllables that lingered in his mind. 

Vex magic at its finest play, then. Grimdog wondered briefly what plans they had for Cub. but it wasn’t any of his business.

And contrary to most things, the less one knew about the vex, the better.

“Alright!” Xisuma called back. “I’ll fill in the armory later!” 

Cub nodded, barely visible in the dim, glowing light of suspended lava. A pair of skeletal wings rose from his back - and then, he was gone.

 _Creepy as hell, those vexes_ , Grimdog thought with a shiver.

“Well, do you want a tour?” Xisuma asked. “Most of the rooms haven’t been decorated yet, but the basic layout is done. As well as a few traps.”

“Of course, of course,” Grimdog agreed, shaking thoughts of magic from his mind. “Do go ahead.”

* * *

Xisuma led Grimdog around the Deadquarters, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy being around the Reaper’s presence.

Was some remnant of him still clinging onto the memory of Ren? The first to die was the chosen one, he had realized. The book enacted a special fate on them, stripping away free agency to leave a perfect vessel for an embodiment of Death’s Reapers. And Ren, one of the kindest, loveliest of Hermits, had had the misfortune of falling into that trap.

“Very nice,” Grimdog said as they approached the 3rd floor. “This pleases me greatly.”

Would it have pleased Ren? Xisuma wondered, but he didn’t want to dwell on it. 

“The Book of Traps is up here,” Xisuma added. He pushed a button, and a piston door retracted. The book sat there on the lectern, amusingly ordinary for all the trouble the living would have to go through to obtain it.

“We’re trapping this button, and the lectern, of course,” Xisuma added. “It’s a project for another night.”

Grimdog nodded. Xisuma found himself wondering whether he cared for their project, or if he had his own clashing plans. He wasn’t quite sure why he wanted to know so badly. But that familiar feeling was stirring inside him again. 

He didn’t have anything to be angry about, did he? So why was it back?

It nagged at him incessantly.

“Do we have any rooms for… inhabitation?” Grimdog suddenly asked.

“What?” Xisuma blinked. Did he mean…

“Like, just to live in. Talk in. Plan in.” Grimdog shrugged. 

“We’re still using our bases for living in,” Xisuma said uncertainly. Grimdog stared at him

What?

...oh.

Xisuma supposed it _would_ be awkward for him to take over Ren’s old buildings. And it would be impractical.

The rest of them, even Cub, could choose to take a break and focus on other projects, to ignore the living for a few peaceful days.

Grimdog was cursed by Demise to always further the agenda of the dead. He had no respite from the unliving - the magic always forcibly pulled him back. 

A base in the Deadquarters, with its majestic walls, variety of useful rooms, and a looming, eerie atmosphere - Xisuma could see how it would be a major step up from the crypt.

“We can get you set up with a room,” Xisuma offered. “Here-”

He walked to the edge of the narrow hallway, where the walls ended in a giant portrait of TNT (Scar’s work, Cub’s idea, unsurprisingly), and opened a door. The room was fairly spacious, the walls polished and newly put in place.

“We haven’t decided what to do with some of the rooms yet,” Xisuma explained. “Is this one alright?”

“It’s great,” Grimdog said. “Thank you, Xisuma.”

“Right. No problem,” Xisuma said. Grimdog was right next to him, he realized. They were nearly touching. They were certainly close enough to touch.

... _oh._

Now was _definitely_ not the time to think about that. Xisuma shut down the train of thought as quickly as it had arisen and hoped Grimdog wasn’t looking through his visor too closely.

“I’ll - I’ll be on my way,” he said, backing away. Grimdog nodded, looking vaguely distracted. 

Was that _disappointment_ Xisuma was crushing inside him?

He really needed to sort out his priorities.

* * *

“Are you sure about this?” Xisuma asked.

“Yes,” Jevin confirmed. “I’ll be back for Season 7, I promise. No need to worry yourself so much, Xisuma.”

“Right.”

Xisuma began typing out the code, the sequence smooth and familiar. 

He pressed enter.

**Remove iJevin from the whitelist?**

**\--- > No**

**\--- > Yes**

**_Input: Yes_ **

**iJevin successfully removed from the whitelist.**

**iJevin left the game.**

“A pity,” a voice said behind him. Xisuma jumped.

“He would have made a fine addition to the dead,” Grimdog lamented, staring at the place where Jevin once stood. “But alas, the pull of Demise does not transcend this world.”

Xisuma privately thought that was for the best. 

“Anyway,” Grimdog said, stepping forward. “How are things going, Xisuma?”

“Well,” Xisuma said awkwardly. He still hadn’t continued his train of thought from the mansion, though it always hovered at the back of his mind, teasing, looming. 

Grimdog shuffled closer, his eyes somehow mesmerizingly gray, the coldness radiating off him tingling, tickling-

 _Damn it._

“It’s been going okay,” he lamely finished.

“If you feel up to it, we could go trapping some bases,” Grimdog smiled. 

Upon Xisuma’s unresponsiveness, he added, “or we could just place some TNT around. Scare the warmbloods a little, nothing major.”

Xisuma blinked. Nothing was different about Grimdog, but...

“...or not,” Grimdog said quietly, almost… despondently. “Sorry to bother you.”

“W - wait,” Xisuma finally managed to stammer out. “I didn’t mean - I just-”

This was all too much for him. But somehow, for some reason, Xisuma refused to leave Grimdog’s offer hanging.

“We can go trap. The living,” he said. “I’d like to - I mean, unless - unless you don’t want to anymore- “

“Oh, I would. Want to,” Grimdog added hastily. “So - uh, I think - wait, who do you want to trap?”

“Uh…” The feeling was so familiar. So painfully, achingly familiar, and it sent shivers of longing through Xisuma’s heart. For a moment he swore it managed a faint, desperate beat.

Right, Traps. 

..his mind blanked. He tried desperately to grab a name from the recesses of his memory-

“Joe?”

“Sure! Does - does Joe have a base?” Grimdog asked. 

“I don’t know,” Xisuma said after an awkward pause.

This was off to _such_ a great start.

* * *

Joe, as it turned out, did not have a base. Not one they knew of, anyway, but they did find him wandering the shopping district with a small puppy trailing his heels.

A few invisibility potions later, they were waiting.

“TNT to his left?” Xisuma whispered to thin, cold air, the only indication of Grimdog’s presence.

“Of course,” Grimdog whispered back.

Seeing Joe leap in shock from the shower of dirt and gravel was pretty amusing, Xisuma had to agree. 

Then another explosion blasted his ears, he promptly jolted away as well.

He careened into Grimdog’s invisible body, sending them both tumbling onto hard stone pavement.

“Sorry!” he squeaked - and quickly froze.

Joe was staring right at them, as his puppy bounded over and began licking what Xisuma assumed to be Grimdog’s face.

“Dead dogs _can_ catch living afflictions, you know,” he chuckled.

Xisuma gaped at him. This was Joe, of course but -

_What?_

There was the unmistakable whoosh of an ender pearl throw.

And then, Joe was gone, and his puppy with him.

_What in the worlds was all that about?_

“Uh… Xisuma?” Grimdog said quietly after a long while.

Oh, right. 

“I - sorry it didn’t go how you wanted,” Xisuma said as he lifted himself off of Grimdog. 

He refused to think of the connotations the position hinted at.

“It’s fine,” Grimdog said, though there was something wavering in his tone. “The blast was fun. Now Joe knows - now he knows…”

Well, it was a bit of an understatement to say Joe seemed to know everything already.

“Do you want to - want to try another Hermit?” Xisuma asked. Grimdog leaned closer. They were touching again, shoulder to shoulder. Almost hand to hand.

Xisuma’s mind scrambled itself in a desperate race to process this - this _situation_.

“I - I’d like -”

Grimdog abruptly turned away.

“I mean, I think that’s enough for today,” he suddenly said. He refused to meet Xisuma’s eyes.

Xisuma wasn’t sure it was possible to feel even colder than being dead.

But for some reason, as Grimdog flew off, it felt like his veins had been shoved full of sharp, painful icicles.

Being dead shouldn’t feel this painful.

Being dead meant he shouldn’t feel at all.

...so why did Grimdog’s rejection hurt so much?

And why was he feeling _… attraction_ … for him in the first place?

(It wasn’t love, Xisuma refused to believe it was love, because the dead did not love.)

( _...or did they?)_

* * *

He messed up.

Grimdog knew it, if not in the expression he was too cowardly to meet Xisuma’s expression, then in the way he didn’t talk to Grimdog afterwards. They seemed to now exist in some floating, vague bubble of discomfort and tension, one which neither was willing to breach.

The realization of the _feeling_ , however, came later. Not so much as a sudden surprise, but more as a slow, gradual dawning, where one day Grimdog stepped into the room Xisuma had presented him in the Deadquarters - now fully furnished with book and plans and maps - and realized he what he had been feeling for him in the past few weeks was just barely short of pining.

It was incredibly awkward, whenever he sought to think of it. What was Grimdog supposed to say?

_Hey, I think I have a crush on you, nevermind that the body I inhabit used to be a close friend of yours and that we’re both dead beings who aren’t supposed to feel anything beyond sadistic glee whenever the living die, especially me because I’m a literal cursed being made of magic whose whole purpose is to kill living beings._

Grimdog hated himself for it. 

The other question is why. Why him? Why them? The dead were not supposed to feel emotions, least of all an emotion so full of… life. 

Was - was there still some remnant of Rendog left, clinging to him like a stubborn, chasing hound?

 _Dead dogs_ can _catch living afflictions, you know._

It was a headache and a half to sort out.

Grimdog decided to shelve it. He shouldn’t be thinking about this anyway. His mission was to collect the souls of the living - something so baseless as _love_ was not getting in the way of that. 

* * *

The water was warm, and bright, and filled with life.

Xisuma felt like an imposter, a faded, grayed specter as he swam among the corals of vibrant colors and fish with scales that gleamed iridescently in diffusing sunlight. The shadowy spot beneath him was like a stalking ocelot, chasing away any fish that found themselves suddenly beneath the cold, looming predator.

For the first time since his demise, Xisuma found himself missing life.

When he was alive, everything was harder, yes, but also... easier, in some ways that very much mattered.

He probably wouldn’t be agonizing over whatever suspended relationship he and Grimdog had right now, that was for sure.

A blue tang pressed itself to his hemet, eyes blinking curiously. Xisuma quietly gave it a small wave of hello.

He drifted amongst the coral for some time, content to rest in the watery depths of the ocean. The farming project above could wait, he thought. The dead had all the time in the world.

Something bubbled behind him.

Xisuma twirled around slowly, blinking when he saw Grimdog swimming closer. The schools of fish raced to escape his cold presence, but Xisuma merely stopped swimming. He floated to the ocean’s bottom, seating himself on a large pink coral. A duo of sea cucumbers brushed his armored boots.

“What is it?” Xisuma asked as Grimdog approached closer. Thankfully, the dead had no need for oxygen, and his helmet managed to project his voice just fine. 

“I - I just wanted to know what you were doing,” Grimdog said. “You've been down here for a long time.” The tones were warbly, but still intelligible. 

“Just enjoying… the sight of life, I guess,” Xisuma said simply.

“The sight of life,” Grimdog repeated. Was it Xisuma’s imagination, or was there something wistful in his eyes as he said the words?

“Yes,” Xisuma said. “I miss it, right now. Do you - well, I guess you can’t miss what you don’t know.”

“I hope so,” Grimdog said quietly. “It’s been harder to separate that, in the past few days.”

Xisuma gave him a curious look. His heart seemed to try and beat again, in his chest, or was it his mind playing tricks? 

Was this entire thing simply one giant hallucination?

Nonetheless, he had to try. Xisuma was never one to leave something unfinished. 

“You mean… with feelings?” he broached hesitantly. 

“Yeah,” Grimdog said, a clearly uncomfortable expression on his face. “Do you - do you feel that way too?”

Xisuma reached out a hand as another fish - this time a yellow and black striped one, swam towards him.

“I feel… things I shouldn’t feel, yes,” Xisuma said finally. “Feelings about you. I still don’t know what to make of it.”

“That makes two of us,” Grimdog said. They sat there, on the corals, watching life float calmly by. The reef itself, bright in a myriad of colors in the shimmering waters. The seagrass, waving carelessly across the ocean floor. Towers of kelp were anchored across the waterscape, as fish of a thousand colors darted their way amongst it all, content to go about their quiet, peaceful lives. A pair of sleek gray-blue dolphins played with a bubble stream in the distance, chittering excitedly as they circled each other and the vent. 

“The Book of Demise,” Xisuma said suddenly. 

“Hm?” Grimdog turned to him.

“I read its fine print,” he said softly. “Some pages look blank on the book itself, but I brought up the code and discovered there’s hidden words that guide the magic. The dead lose biological function, and are imbued with a desire to trap and kill. But nowhere does it say that the capability for emotions the living experience is also stripped away.”

“But I - “ Grimdog looked away.

“The curse fully transforms the first player affected into the Reaper,” Xisuma said. “But it doesn’t mention anything about emotions there either. Just that the original player’s memories are wiped and replaced with a sole agenda to kill. Nothing about erasing the ability to feel itself.”

Grimdog remained silent for a long moment, and sorrow clouded his expression.

“I’m not Ren,” he said. “I’m held together by that book’s magic. When this ends - you know I’ll be gone, right?”

“I don’t - ” Xisuma hesitated. “I don’t think you’re as separate from Ren as you think. You don’t have his memories… but he’ll remember yours, when this is all over. And I think he would have encouraged you to go for it.”

“Really?” Grimdog turned, blinking in surprise. “I - I didn’t - “

“Do you want to - to see where this goes?” Xisuma asked. “I know time is, ironically, the one thing we lack. But I don’t think it would be such a bad thing, this relationship.”

“Maybe,” Grimdog said. “I’m sorry for leaving you hanging like that, by the way. Joe’s comment freaked me out too much.”

An exhilarating thrill ran down Xisuma’s cold, nerveless spine. It was - it could be -

The feeling was familiar. He’d experienced it before, in life. 

“He has a tendency to do that,” Xisuma said, smiling. And this time he leaned closer, a clear invitation. 

“I do think he’s onto something,” Grimdog agreed. He returned the smile, wrapping his arms around Xisuma, laying his head on his chest. A passing fish finally swam forth, poking his hair curiously. 

And they sat there, in the vivacious scenery of the coral reefs, watching the circle of life until the sun descended below the horizon.

**Author's Note:**

> Orion Kitsune, I hope this was satisfactory! And to all readers - what did you think? Comments? Critiques?


End file.
